


Time for Tee

by Raufnir



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Clarus and Regis if you squint, Fluff, Gladnis, M/M, No Beta, Promptis - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt, almost unedited, chocobros relaxing in the sun, golf puns, i don't even know what this is, low key pda, one big splurge I had to get down on paper...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 14:56:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10744002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raufnir/pseuds/Raufnir
Summary: skinandbones posted something on Tumblr about Regis teeing off on the top of the citadel, trying to hit Cor down below, and it just tickled me pink. I asked if I could include it in a little fanfic, and they said yes, so here it is.Regis is a child, Clarus facilitates it, Noct is terrible at minigolf, and Ignis makes an awful pun. That's it really: minigolf, with a side of fluff. :D





	Time for Tee

Noct’s phone buzzed in his hand and he cracked an eye open. Sunlight washed over his face and put him in a daze, but he managed to bash out a reply. _On the roof terrace. Come up?_

A short while later, Prompto crept through the doors and looked around for Noctis. He took one buoyant step onto the sun-drenched terrace before he froze. Regis was there. _King_ Regis. Prompto could count on one hand the number of times he’d been in the king’s presence. This made the third.

Drawn by the interruption, Regis turned his grey-green eyes on the sixteen year old, and smiled. “Welcome, Prompto,” he said. “Good to see you. Are you well?”

Words wouldn’t come. His throat dried up like some dusty corner of Leide, and as he tried to reply, his tongue prickled and he was sure a cactaur had taken up residence there.

Noct snorted something from his sun-lounger and Prompto’s eyes darted to him in a silent plea for a rescue. The prince yawned and sat up slowly, clad in his trademark black t-shirt and baggy black cargo pants despite the heat. “Relax, dad, you’re freaking him out.”

Regis’ expression softened and he sighed. “Apologies, Prompto,” he said, waving one hand. “Please, make yourself at home.”

Prompto blinked and realised that the long stick he had in his hand was not the walking cane he usually carried. It was a golf club. It was so incongruous with their location atop the highest point of the citadel, that Prompto still couldn’t register it properly. He only frowned at it. When the low rumble of the king’s laughter finally dropped through his brain, he flushed crimson, bowed his head, and scampered over to Noctis.

“You’re a total nerd,” Noctis said, ruffling Prompto’s golden hair before flopping back down and throwing an arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun. “Dad likes to tee off up here sometimes.”

“Oh,” Prompto said, feeling stupid. He blinked and looked around him again. “I’ve never been up here,” he said shyly. “I had to ask for directions…”

The prince laughed softly. “It’s dad’s little island up here. He had this whole minigolf course installed just so he could escape and chill out with Clarus…” He nodded at the other side of the terrace and waited while his best friend promptly lost his shit.

“Oh. Em. Gee,” he hissed as his blue eyes took in the far side of the rooftop, behind the stairwell he’d come up only a few minutes earlier. There was a full on minigolf course. With ramps, a little pond with miniature floating chocobos, hills, real turf, and, squeaking slightly in the light breeze, a windmill with rotating sails. “Can we –?” the question was half out of Prompto’s mouth before he’d even realised, and Noct couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sure. When dad’s finished…”

“What… What’s he doing?” Prompto asked hesitantly, turning back to look at the king who was standing on a small platform fenced by an elegant balustrade, looking off the edge of the palace out into the vast expanse of the courtyard below.

The king turned back over his shoulder and chuckled. “I’m having a bet with Clarus here to see if I can land a hit on Cor down there.”

“Uh… how’s it going?” Prompto asked, swallowing his nerves as best he could without choking on them.

Regis let out an uncharacteristically loud bark of laughter and said, “Not well. So far he’s sliced two of them in half. Clarus is about to see if he can hit Drautos from here. You want to come and see how it goes?”

“Piling on the pressure,” Clarus snorted, taking the club from his friend and king.

Prompto hopped to his feet and shrugged at Noctis, who groaned and threw his other arm up instead over his eyes. He’d clearly seen this unfold a few times before.

Prompto was invited up to the roof terrace a few more times that summer. Sometimes the king and Clarus would be there, and sometimes not. Prompto’s favourite times, however, were when the four of them, Gladio, Ignis, Noct and he, could lounge around in the sun with the iridescent wall shimmering away above them.

On one such day, as Prompto lay with his head in Noct’s lap while the crown prince of Lucis snored away like a garula with a cold, he heard the doors to the stairwell open and he cracked an eye. Sure enough, Regis was emerging from the palace below, hobbling slightly, his knee brace glinting in the sun. Clarus came just a step behind him, and nodded at his son, who was reading quietly in one corner with Ignis’ feet in his lap. Occasionally Gladio would reach a hand down behind the book without looking up, and gently circle the ball of Ignis’ foot through his socks, drawing a quiet rumble from Ignis. It was strange to see them all so relaxed, but, Prompto mused, this was the only place in the whole of Eos where everyone could just be themselves.

“Oh look,” Clarus chuckled as he peered off the edge.

Regis didn’t even need to look to know what Clarus had seen. “Is he there?”

The king’s shield nodded. “It’s almost like he knows. I think he secretly enjoys it.”

“What do you reckon?” Regis’ smile was wicked as a young boy’s with a pea-shooter. “You think we can get him this time? Has he seen us?”

Clarus stepped back from the edge and grinned. It was unusual to see such a warm display of emotion on the man’s face, and Prompto caught Gladio grinning at his father, and found his own lips twitching. He shot to his feet and tugged on Noct’s wrist. “Come on,” he whined. “You’ve been asleep all morning. I challenge you to a duel,” he giggled.

“Mmmph,” Noctis mumbled as he snorted and surfaced from sleep.

“No, come on,” Prompto said more insistently this time. “Please, you promised…”

Noct’s mouth twitched and he sniffed and sat up blearily. “Fine. But only if Iggy and Gladio join in.”

Gladio looked up at the mention of his name. “What’s going on?” he asked warily.

Prompto put his fists on his hips and puffed his chest out dramatically. “I challenged Noctis to a minigolf duel. Three shot limit per hole.”

Gladio snorted something into his book about shots and holes, which earned him a smack on the back of the head from Ignis, but he set the book down. “Alright, you’re on.” He quirked an eyebrow at Ignis. “You in?”

“Let it never be said I backed down from a challenge,” the nineteen year old said dryly, elegantly removing his feet from Gladio’s lap and standing. He stretched his shoulders out, and half-considered ignoring the comment from Noctis about wearing a dress shirt even on his day off. “With you, highness, it’s never a day off.”

“Ouch,” Noctis groaned, picking up a minigolf club and tossing it at Ignis, who caught it flawlessly before passing it over to Gladio.

When they each had their weapons, they moved to the combat arena and began. Prompto sunk everything first time, and yet still squawked with delight each time it happened, while a very half-hearted Noctis failed miserably and repeatedly blasted through the three shot limit per hole. Gladio hit it too hard with almost every swing, and Ignis turned the whole thing into an exercise in trigonometry and patience. By the end of the round, Prompto was in the lead, followed one point behind by Ignis, with Gladio and finally Noctis bringing up the rear.

Gladio dug Prompto in the ribs and nodded at the king. “Watch this,” he grinned as he saw his father and the king eyeing up a target down below. They knew what was going on, and crowded around the edge of the terrace to watch.

“Don’t give away our position,” Regis remarked seriously as he raised his arms. He swung the club effortlessly with a fluid motion, the ‘ping’ of the ball and the whoosh of the club the only sound as everyone on the rooftop held their breath.

Clarus leaned in and whispered, “Good eye, your majesty.”

Somewhere down below on the far side of the courtyard, they watched as the marshal, clad in his usual black suit, twitched his head. His right hand flew to the his katana’s tsuka, gripping the ray-skin with the delicacy of a lover, and spun around. The blade flashed in the sun, and they all groaned in disappointment.

“Told you he would notice,” Clarus chuckled.

“That was luck,” Regis huffed petulantly, taking aim at Cor again.

The marshal, barely visible to them as anything more than a figure standing bolt upright, back ramrod straight after years in the military, stepped to one side as another golf ball sailed down and struck the flagstones of the courtyard beside him.

Regis’ phone began to ring in his pocket and he laughed. “Uh-oh,” he smiled, turning to wink at the boys who were all watching with baited breath. “I think I’m in trouble.” He answered the call but didn’t speak as he put the phone on loudspeaker.

Standing in utter silence, they heard Cor’s voice on the other end. “Your majesty, is this necessary?”

“I’m practising my shots,” Regis deadpanned.

“At me?”

“Think of this as training,” he said, hanging up and handing over the club to let Clarus have a try.

Another figure appeared in the courtyard, slightly broader and taller than Cor, but with the same military carriage as he approached the marshal.

Prompto turned to Noctis and hissed, “You think Cor will warn him…?”

Noctis shook his head and yawned. “Doubt it.” His stomach growled and he caught Ignis’ eye as the sound reverberated around the four of them.

There was another metallic whoosh and ping as Clarus took aim. Down below in the courtyard, Drautos had barely managed to ask Cor how his day was before the ball ricocheted off the left breast of a winged statue just behind Drautos.

Regis turned to him and pretended to look stern. “If you chip another nipple off my priceless art…” he began, but then seemed to remember that his son was nearby, and finished with an awkward laugh and a cough. “Good aim, Clarus.”

“Thank you, your majesty. It’s a good day for golfing.”

Ignis cast Noctis one sideways look, and smirked. “Perhaps it’s time for tee?”

The three boys were used to Ignis’ terrible puns by now, but the collective eye-roll from them only made Ignis’ green eyes sparkle more brightly, and he opened his phone to call for tea for the four of them while the king and Clarus made their way off the terrace, leaving the boys alone in the heat of the midday sun.

As Prompto lay back on his lounger, a sweet bubble tea in his hands, he leaned his head back and sighed. “You ok?” Noctis asked on hearing the little breath leave his chest.

Prompto nodded. “It’s nice,” he smiled.

Noctis thumped him playfully on the arm and turned back to the jasmine tea that Ignis had just poured him. “Yeah. It is.” The tea was too hot, so he set it down on a low table beside him.

“I wish it could be like this forever,” Prompto added. “Just the four of us.”

He stared hard at Noct’s face, as though trying to etch it into his memory. The lines of the prince’s face were soft, barely looking his sixteen years as his eyelids rolled shut to hide his sapphire blue eyes. His skin was flawless, Prompto observed not for the first time. He’d learned to rock his freckles, but still, there was something about the prince’s alabaster complexion that made his insides cartwheel. His eyes skated over the ice-smooth surface of Noct’s cheeks and landed on the little kink in the corner of his lips. He knew there was a secret smile there. Noct gave it to Prompto, and Prompto alone. He itched to lean in and kiss him. He wondered if Gladio and Ignis would mind.

Before he got too lost, he shot a glance at them where they sat on loungers a little way off, only to find Ignis lying along the length of Gladio’s body, one arm draped elegantly over his bare torso, head nestled in the crook of Gladio’s shoulder, right over the spot where the bird of prey was taking shape on his skin. Ghostly feathers traced down his arm, half finished, waiting for his next session. Prompto smiled, wishing he had his camera. Ignis looked so relaxed for once.

Gladio shot him a smirk and lowered his lips possessively onto the top of Ignis’ head.

If Gladio didn’t care, then why should he? Heart pounding, he leaned down, licked his chapped lips nervously, and hovered tentatively over the sleeping prince.

Prompto was a heartbeat away from pressing a shy kiss onto Noct’s lips when he paused, heart hammering. Then with a rush of adrenaline, he did it. Noctis moaned, and those sapphire eyes opened as a slow, lazy smile dawned on his face. “You taste like that sweet tea,” he mumbled.

Prompto couldn’t tell if that was a complaint or a compliment, but Noctis reached up and laced his fingers through Prompto’s thick, golden hair, and drew him back down. Prompto lost his balance and fell into the prince’s lap with a startled yip. Laughing, Noctis kissed him back with the inexperienced enthusiasm of a young teenager while Ignis and Gladio tried not to look.

Ignis nuzzled his head back into Gladio’s shoulder and sighed contentedly. Tee time wouldn’t last forever, but it was all the more precious because of it.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to skinandbones for letting me play with their idea. From 'Good eye, your majesty' to '...It's a good day for golfing' comes from that [Tumblr post](https://expectogladiolus.tumblr.com/post/160016227504/ofskinandbones-regis-playing-golf-on-top-of-the)


End file.
